Lovers, Friends and Admirers
by Lady Razorsharp
Summary: The Autobots and their friends experience Valentine's Day. Written for the 2007 LJ Valentine's Day Challenge.
1. ROSE: Rose

AN: These were written for the 2007 Valentine's Day Challenge over at Transficsation on LJ. The idea was to write a story for each letter of 'Rose' and 'Gift', without using the same characters in the same set--which was harder than one might think!

Disclaimer: Transformers belongs to Hasbro/Takara. Just borrowing.

* * *

Rose: Rose  
_Featuring Carly and Spike_

"Hey, Carly?"

She turned from where she had been watching Wheeljack and Ratchet work on a complex circuit board, and removed her dark glass goggles to see Spike standing just inside the door to the lab. "Hey yourself," she volleyed back. "What's up?"

The interior of the Ark was warm, but she noticed he was bundled up for the winter weather. "I wanna talk to you for a second," he said, a smile playing about his mouth. "Can you come take a walk with me?"

Carly glanced up at the two Autobots just in time to see Ratchet shoot Wheeljack a knowing smile. "I'll see you two later," she said, a note of suspicion creeping into her voice. Ratchet gently folded his fingers around her and lowered her to the ground.

"Have fun, you two," he said, as Wheeljack's headfins flickered in a silent chuckle.

They stopped off to retrieve Carly's coat in the control room, and then walked to where the burnt-orange metal of the Ark's massive hold gave way to the frozen countryside. "Cold out here," mused Carly, her breath curling in frosty wisps around her blond bangs.

"Yeah," said Spike. He stopped just outside the Ark and pulled her into the lee of a huge boulder. "I think I might know a way to warm you up."

Carly grinned. "Oh, really?"

"Yeah, really," he quipped. "We've known each other for a long time, right?"

Carly nodded. "Since last summer--when I crashed the Autobot party, so to speak." She laughed at the memory of being caught snooping around the Ark by Ironhide, who had turned out to be a good friend in the months that followed. "Why?"

Spike smiled, unable to meet her gaze. "Well...I just wanted to tell you that...I really like you. And I hope you like me." He finally raised his eyes to hers, and she noticed for the first time what a nice shade of brown they were, like the fine old scotch her grandfather kept in an antique crystal bottle.

"Of course I like you, Spike," she breathed, feeling her skin begin to prickle. "I have for a long time." She raised an eyebrow at him. "Why else would I be crazy enough to stand out here in the freezing cold with you, waiting for you to ask me if I'll be your girlfriend?"

Spike's mouth dropped open in surprise. "How did you--"

Carly chuckled and leaned in closer. "Women's intuition, silly. Get used to it."

And with that, she closed her eyes and kissed him.

For the barest instant, she felt Spike go tense. Then his arms were around her, and all thoughts of snow, cold, and giant alien robots fled away.

After a few dizzying moments, they broke the kiss and stepped back from each other, their accelerated breaths puffing like smoke. "Been wanting to do that for a long time," said Spike, pulling off his glove to thread his fingers through her bright yellow-gold hair. Her eyes drifted shut, and a dreamy smile spread itself across her face.

"S'fine with me if you wanna do it again," she murmured, and giggled as he proceeded to do just that.

They stood together in the shelter of the boulder for a while longer, watching as the sun painted the sky in deep orange and vivid pink. Finally, Spike shifted, and she moved with a wordless sound of protest from where she had been nestled against his side.

"Aww, I was finally starting to get warm," she pouted.

He brushed a kiss against her cold hair. "I know, but they others'll be wondering where we've gotten to."

She fixed him with a wry smile. "Oh, I have the feeling they know _exactly_ where we are." She gestured to where the setting sun was reflected off the lens of a security camera, and Spike groaned.

"Great, now my personal life is news on both Earth AND Cybertron." He reached behind the boulder to a small depression hollowed out from the snow and produced a long stemmed scarlet rose. "This is for you," he said, and placed it in her mittened hands.

Tears sprang to Carly's eyes, and she smiled down at the frosty bloom. "It's beautiful."

"Yeah, well, I'm sorry I didn't give it to you sooner." He blushed. "I was trying to work up the courage to get you out here. Finally Jazz said that if I didn't do it before Valentine's Day was over, he'd ask you to go out with HIM."

Hand in hand, the teens walked back into the Ark. Sure enough, Jazz was waiting for them in the control room, and the Autobot broke into a grin when he saw them.

"Hey you two," he quipped. "What's the story?"

Carly hoisted herself up onto the console and gestured for Jazz to lean down. She rose up on her tiptoes and pressed her lips against his faceplate.

"I'm sorry, Jazz," she said, "You're sweet, but you're just not my type."

Though his visor hid his optics, Carly could hear the wink in Jazz's voice. "Aw, don't worry, little lady, I understand. It just wouldn't have worked out between us anyway."


	2. ROSE: Original

AN: This was one of the more challenging ones to write, since I wasn't entirely sure where it was going at first (Serious or Silly? Couldn't decide). Eventually everything worked out…

Disclaimer: Transformers belongs to Hasbro/Takara. Just borrowing.

* * *

Rose: Original  
_featuring Sunstreaker and Sideswipe_

The Autobot leader and his 2IC stood on either side of the double doors at the back of the immense convention center hall. Before them was a milling crowd of humans, all admiring the gleaming concept cars parked in elaborate displays on the hall floor. A complement of Prime's Autobots were outside, guarding the auto show against marauding Stunticons, who had crashed the party the previous year--literally.

Suddenly, there was a burst of rock music from the front stage. A man in a sleek suit hurried up the steps to cheers and applause, and he grabbed the microphone, grinning from ear to ear.

"I'd like to welcome you all to the 2002 Auto Concept Show," said the man, as the applause died down. "I'm Graham Leonard, president of Excella Motors. Everyone having a good time so far?"

More cheers from the crowd. Prime shifted his gaze from one end of the hall to the other, knowing Prowl was doing the same.

_So far, so good,_ radioed Prowl.

_Let's hope it stays that way,_ sent Prime. _By the way, your idea for the twins' 'community service' detail was genius._

Prowl's normally stern visage split in a pleased smile. _Thank you, sir._

"And now, I have a very special announcement to make," Graham said, to the delight of his audience. "Presenting our very honored guests--Autobots Sunstreaker and Sideswipe!"

On cue, Prime and Prowl opened the heavy metal doors. With a throaty rev of their engines, the Lamborghini twins entered the hall and drove slowly down the center aisle amid _ooohs_ and _ahhs_ from the crowd. A lightning storm of flashes went off, bathing the twins in bursts of dazzling light. First Sunstreaker, then Sideswipe, purred up the ramp to park on the stage, flanking the human emcee.

In a perfectly timed bit of theatrics, the left-side gull wing doors of each Lamborghini popped open. Two slender women, clad in skin-tight Excella Motors racing suits keyed to the color of their respective Autobot escort, slithered from behind the wheel.

"We'd also like to welcome Janice and Jennifer Bailey, our goodwill ambassadors for the 2002-2003 racing season," said Graham, as the women pulled off their helmets to reveal waves of brunette hair and identical pixie-like features. There were a few catcalls, and the human twins waved and blew kisses.

"I _hate_ this part," gritted Janice from behind her smile.

"I know, Jan," said Sideswipe kindly. "It'll be over soon. Just remember what you told me--you'll be able to pay your tuition from the money you're getting from this appearance."

"Is Jannie whining to you again, Siders?" quipped Jennifer. Posing coquettishly against Sunstreaker's fender, she tossed her head and smiled for a group of fans taking her picture. "Hello, my adoring public!"

The yellow Lamborghini chuckled. "You're a girl after my own energon pump, Jen."

Graham spoke into his microphone once again. "Ladies and Gentlemen, Zack Williams and David Quinn, our championship Enduro racing team, will present our lovely ladies--and our guests--with a special tribute, courtesy of the City of Portland, also called the City of Roses." Two men in black racing suits approached the stage, each bearing huge bouquets of yellow and red roses. The racers laid the bouquets in the girls' arms and gave them chaste kisses on the cheek, and then stepped back to pose and wave to the crowd.

Graham smiled at the group on the stage. "And now it's my privilege to introduce Mayor Richard Reynold, who will make a special announcement." A short, balding man in an expensive suit took the stage, and Graham handed him the microphone.

"Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen, honored guests," said the Mayor. "I'm very glad to be here." He smiled as the crowd noise died down. "Last year, the Decepticons thought they could ruin our show--and our fair city. Thanks to Sunstreaker and Sideswipe, who were in attendance that day, many lives were saved." He turned to face the Lamborghinis. "And so the City of Portland, our City of Roses, would like to extend an invitation to Autobot Sunstreaker and Sideswipe to be the grand marshalls of this year's Rose Parade." He gestured to the bouquets. "Additionally, this is a preview crop of our new 'Sunstreaker' and 'Sideswipe' roses that will go on the market this summer. We hope to make both varieties available to Portland retailers just in time for Valentine's Day next year."

"Wow, cool!" Sunstreaker gushed. "Whaddaya say, bro?"

"Count me in," said Sideswipe, and the crowd burst into applause.

Jennifer took a rose from her bouquet and pinned it under Sunstreaker's windshield wiper, then pressed her lips against the glass, leaving behind a pink lipstick print. "Congratulations, you sexy devil."

"Aww, don't encourage him!" groaned Sideswipe.

"Don't worry, Siders, I haven't forgotten you," said Janice. She, too, tucked a deep red rose behind his windshield wiper, and added her own pink lipstick print on the glass.

Prime raised an optic ridge and wordlessly turned to his 2IC.

Prowl gave a mental shrug. _What's that look for? It seemed like a good idea at the time._

--End--


	3. ROSE: Sunrise

Warning: Implied slash.

AN: I had this pairing in mind when I began writing the challenge, but this wasn't the first one I wrote.

Disclaimer: Transformers belongs to Hasbro/Takara. Just borrowing.

* * *

Rose: Sunrise  
_featuring Red Alert, Inferno, and Starscream_

Inferno sighed. "So you're really going to do it?"

"Of course I am," snapped the fire chief Lamborghini. "What else is there for me to do?" He paced the short length of his office, which was made shorter with Inferno's bulk at one end. "I tried to tell him there was no way this could continue, but he just won't listen!"

"Well, he's always been on the hardheaded side," said the fire truck. "Just say the word, Red, and he'll have to deal with me." Inferno tapped the fire nozzle extension on his arm, which at its most innocent would deliver a stream of water at a hull-denting pressure.

"Thank you, Inferno, but no." Red smiled wistfully at his friend. "I've already imposed on you enough by even talking with you about it, but I just felt there was no one else I could turn to."

Inferno stood and patted Red Alert's shoulder. "Always happy to lend a listening audio, Red. If that scoundrel gives you any trouble, you give a shout and ol' Inferno'll come to the rescue."

Red listened to Inferno's sure, solid steps retreat down the corridor, and he sighed through his filters. _Inferno's a good mech,_ he thought miserably. _Why can't I ever fall for someone like __**him**_

_Because those goody-goody sorts are always so __**boring**_ said a file-on-steel voice in the back of his mind.

With a growl of irritation at his conscience directive, Red checked his internal chronometer. It was almost sunrise--the appointed hour of the meeting. He carefully checked the perimeter, reset the alarm to alert him at the slightest change, and drove off into the crystal-black morning.

When Red reached the turnout a few miles away from the volcano, he stopped and transformed. "Starscream," he called tentatively, the sound muffled by the snow-laden trees all around.

"Took you long enough," came a raspy purr from above his head, and Starscream slid down the mountainside to drop lightly to the road. "What, did you have to wait until Big Daddy Prime was asleep so you could sneak out?"

As always happened when he saw the Seeker, Red felt a thrill course through his circuits. Starscream was always bigger, his wingspan larger, his angles sharper than he remembered. In the dark, his colors were muted and dull, but the starlight threw glints off every surface, and Red's hands itched to touch him.

"I...I can't stay," said the Lamborghini, much more bravely than he felt. "I have to get back. I only came out here to say...to say..."

Red's vocoder failed him as Starscream smirked. "Why, _Red Alert_," he murmured. "You're not breaking up with me, are you?" One hand snaked around the back of Red's helmet and gripped it tight, setting Red's sensors off in a crackle of blue energy. "Say it isn't so."

"I..." Every fiber of Red's being wanted to melt into the Seeker's embrace and let himself be kissed into an oblivion that had nothing to do with null rays and photon charges. Fixing Inferno's solid features in his processor, Red sighed through his filters. "This cannot continue, Starscream. We both jeopardize our positions, our very _lives_ by continuing in this way." To his horror, he found his hands wandering to Starscream's wingblades. "Don't you see?" he said softly, as the Seeker arched and purred like a contented feline. "Megatron will kill us _both_."

Starscream chuckled, a low, grating sound that chilled Red's core. "I am not afraid of Megatron," said the Air Commander.

"Only a fool would not be afraid of Megatron," growled Red. "You're glitched."

The Seeker laughed. "If all you're going to do is insult me, Red, then I'm going home."

"No!" The word burst from Red's harmonizer before he could stop it. "Who knows when I'll get another chance--"

"--to see me again?"

"--to finish breaking up with you." Red glared at the bemused Decepticon, who seemed on the verge of laughter. "This is serious!"

Starscream took a step towards Red. "Of course it is." He clamped his hands around Red's arms and brought the fire chief close enough so that their helmets were almost touching. "Very serious indeed."

"Very...serious..." echoed Red. For some reason, he was having trouble concentrating, and realized that one of Starscream's hands had slipped down to tease the sensitive cables underneath his hood. "Starscream..."

"I do love it when you say my name like that." One corner of his mouth lifted in a slow smile. "Do you know what today is, my dear Red?"

"Mmm, no," said the Lamborghini, in thrall of the Seeker's ministrations.

"I hear that today is the holiday the humans call 'Valentine's Day,' and they go around asking each other, 'Will you be my Valentine?'" Starscream removed his hand to plink one fingertip against the fire chief emblem on Red's hood. "You've even got the right decor for it--red and white."

"Mmmhmm."

Starscream slid his hand up Red's chestplate, hooked his fingers over the top, and pulled sharply. The Lamborghini gasped in pain as the hinges on his hood squealed in protest. Blue sparks from Red's sensors fell in a rain all around them, only to wink out in the cold air like fiery snowflakes.

"So, Red...I am asking you: Will you be _my_ Valentine?"

The Seeker's kiss was anything but gentle, and Red whimpered slightly from the pressure of both mouth and mind as Starscream's consciousness battered against the tightly locked gates of Red's processor.

_Open_, came the command, sharp and bright. _Open!_

"NO!" Red fought against the touch with hands and mind. "Starscream, I don't want to hurt you, but I will if you don't let me go!"

It was no use; Starscream was a conduit of raw desire, and he continued to press against Red's barriers. "I will have you," the Decepticon rasped. "You will not escape me!"

Red managed to wrench his pistol free, and wedged it into Starscream's side. The Seeker froze.

"Red--"

"Just go," Red whispered.

Starscream hesitated a moment, and then backed away, his expression unreadable. He turned and got a running start, then engaged his engines with a throaty roar and took off into the sky. As he did so, a small object fell from his chassis to land with a muffled bump against the snow.

Red's instincts screamed at him that it was an explosive charge, but when it lay silent, Red approached it cautiously. Subspacing his weapon, Red stooped and picked up the object. It looked like a stone, as big as the palm of Red's hand--until he turned it over.

It was then that he saw that it was a rose, carved from a piece of granite. The petals had been shaped by a high-powered laser tool, and the edges had been buffed to a glossy shine.

Red searched the lightening sky for the Seeker's form, but he was gone; not even a contrail marked the expanse of blue-gray to betray his route.

A few nights later, Inferno came calling. The fire truck's hand went immediately to the granite rose, which was holding down a few datapads on Red's desk.

"This is _beautiful_," remarked Inferno. "Someone spent a lot of time on this. Where'd you get it?"

"From an admirer," Red said, snatching the rose from Inferno's hand. "Really, Inferno, I'm terribly busy right now."

The fire truck smiled and turned to leave. "Sure, kiddo. You know where to find me." He was at the door when he heard Red's chair scrape against the floor.

"'ferno," Red blurted. He looked at the floor, and then finally raised his optics to those of his friend. "I tried. I really did."

Inferno nodded. "I know. There's just something about him that makes you come back for more, right? Even though you know there's no chance?"

The Lamborghini's mouth dropped open slightly in surprise. "How did you--"

The fire truck tapped the door sensor with his nozzle-hand and stepped through. "I gotta go. See you around, kid."

For a long time after Inferno had gone, Red sat and stared at the cold granite flower, and wondered how long it took before love turned to stone.

--End--


	4. ROSE: Elegant

Disclaimer: Transformers belongs to Hasbro/Takara. Just borrowing.

* * *

Rose: Elegant  
_featuring Bumblebee, Powerglide, and Astoria_  
_with an appearance by Jazz and Bluestreak_

Bumblebee shut the door of Powerglide's cargo compartment. "That's the last of 'em. You ready to go?"

"Yeah," said the red Autobot plane, a sad note in his harmonizer. "I don't know why I agreed to do this in the first place."

"Because she's your friend," said Bumblebee, patting his fellow minibot's fuselage. "Now get outta here, or you'll be late and she'll be mad--and you don't wanna make a bride mad on her wedding day." He grinned. "Especially _this_ one!"

"Do you, Astoria Frances Carlton-Ritz, take Jonas Charles Lovell to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health, forsaking all others, as long as you both shall live?"

From behind her veil, Astoria looked up into the face of her groom and smiled. "I do."

The priest turned to the dark-haired man holding Astoria's hand. "And do you, Jonas, take Astoria to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and health, forsaking all others, as long as you both shall live?"

Astoria's eyes fluttered shut, and for a split-second, she let herself dream of a future that could never have been, with an impossible groom at her side, his huge metal hands gently holding hers.

_Do you, Powerglide..._

...His optics, blue as a summer sky...the sunlight glinting off his shiny hull...the dizzying feeling in the pit of her stomach as he pushed over into a powerdive...

"I do," said Jonas, and Astoria's eyes opened to see not a dream, but an even better reality.

_"You should be in view of the target area,"_ called Bumblebee over Powerglide's radio. _"Get ready to deploy payload."_

Powerglide scanned the ground; a large white tent, hung with a banner that read _Congratulations Astoria and Jonas_, had been set up at one end of a rolling green expanse of lawn. Just beyond the tent, a huge crowd of humans faced a small white summerhouse.

"I see it," he replied. "Getting into position." He executed a long, slow turn and lined himself up to fly directly over the crowd. "Opening cargo doors."

_"Looking good, 'Glide. Ready?"_

He sighed through his filters. "As ready as I'll ever be. Payload at 3...2...1..."

"I now pronounce you husband and wife." The priest smiled at the couple. "You may kiss the bride."

With a proud smile, Jonas lifted Astoria's veil and gave his bride a gentle kiss.

At that moment, someone in the crowd said, "Ooh, look!"

Astoria and her new husband broke their kiss just in time to see a flurry of pure white rose petals descending from the sky. A small red plane swooped overhead, waggling its wings in salute.

Astoria caught a handful of the petals and inhaled their sweet scent. "Thank you, Powerglide," she whispered.

In the months that followed, Powerglide often read of Astoria and her husband; the couple was spotted enjoying their honeymoon in Tahiti, in the South of France, on the Cote d'Azur, in Thailand. Finally, after the New Year, one of the celebrity gossip shows reported that the Lovells were at home at their estate in New York. Rumors were flying thick and fast: Was their first child already on the way?

Powerglide sighed and shut off the television monitor. Astoria looked so happy--so why did he feel like slag?

"Hey, 'Glide. You okay?"

The red minibot looked up to see Bumblebee standing over him. The VW's optic ridges were drawn together in a worried frown.

"Yeah, I guess so." He shrugged. "I just miss her, that's all. I know I've got no right to, but I miss her."

Bumblebee shook his head. "Hey, no one said you couldn't miss her. I'm sure she misses you, too. You just have to find a different way to think about each other, that's all. Just because she's married doesn't mean you can't still be her friend."

Powerglide looked away. "Aw, it just wouldn't work, 'Bee. She's better off without me coming around and messing things up for her."

A sly smile curled one corner of Bumblebee's mouth. "Well, then I guess that means you don't want this?" He produced a long golden box from behind his back.

Powerglide's optics went wide. "What the--?"

"Here, you big lugnut," Bumblebee laughed. "Happy Valentine's Day. I'll see you around." He left the common room, still chuckling to himself.

Gently, Powerglide lifted the lid of the box. There beneath a layer of green tissue paper were two dozen pure white roses. Atop the roses was a sheet of elegant stationery, with the monogram 'A F L' at the top in gold letters.

The note contained only three words: _Check your email._

His circuits burning with curiosity, Powerglide packed up the roses and headed to his quarters. Once there, he logged onto his terminal and sure enough, there was an unread email for him.

_Dear Powerglide, _

I'm sorry I haven't had a chance to write until now, but if you've been reading the papers you know how totally crazy my life has been! We had a blast on our honeymoon, but it's soooo great just to be home. And don't believe everything the gossip shows tell you, okay? I'm not ready for the whole 'mom' thing yet. P

I just wanted to say thanks for the roses--it was just perfect, like I imagined it would be. You did an awesome job; everyone was soooo impressed! Even those old coots from Daddy's company said it was neat.

You're always going to be special to me. Don't ever forget that. You saved my life that day--if you hadn't, Jonas wouldn't have had anyone to marry and wouldn't THAT be a total bummer! Seriously, I don't think I can ever tell you how much you mean to me. I still think you're the greatest!

And we can still go flying sometime, right? I told Jonas all about you--he's a pilot, didya know that?? I bet you two would have lots to talk about.

XOXOXO

Tori 

Jazz lowered his weapon from the firing range target. "Hey, Blue," he said to the gunner beside him. "Do you hear something?"

Bluestreak pointed to the sky. "Warthog, comin' in hot!"

As both Autobots hit the deck, Powerglide flashed by, whooping with joyful abandon.

--End--


	5. GIFT: Intimate

Valentine's Challenge #4: Gift: Intimate  
_featuring Optimus Prime_

He remembered the shock that came over him when Alpha Trion had told him: _You both share similar schematics. You, Prime, are the only one who can save her! Disengage your power coupler..._

Brushing his fingers over the grillwork at his waist, he recalled the strange sensation of removing that innermost part of himself, where energon was converted to sustain his life force. He smiled, remembering his amazement as the coupler settled into her chassis with a satisfying _click_.

_Please, Elita,_ he had begged her unconscious form. _Reactivate!_

The drain on his power had made the edges of his vision go grey, and part of him fought against it wildly, like a ravenous beast trying to survive. With all his strength, he shoved the beast back, and concentrated on pouring every ounce of his love, his devotion, _his very spark if need be_, into her.

Deep within that place of fear and uncertainty, she had met him, her optics a soft, soothing blue. Her touch had reached deep into his core, sending waves of calm through him. _Thank you,_ was all she said, conveying more in those two words than any litany of love poems could ever have said.

He remembered the wave of relief that washed over him when he came back to reality, and watched Elita's optics brighten with life energy.

Oh, how he hated to leave her that day! He'd asked her to come back with him...

_I'm needed here,_ she told him, a sad smile on her lovely face. Her call as they blasted off still rang in his audios: _Don't stay away too long!_

He rose from his desk to stand at the large window that looked out over Autobot City. The towers and spires of Metroplex were covered with snow, and the slate-gray sky hinted at promise of more before the day was over. Far in the distance, Mt. St. Hilary loomed like a silent sentinel, the remains of his ship still wedged in the mountain's base.

His ship, his Ark, Cybertron's last hope. Such a small ship to carry such a heavy load. He could recall the day he left Cybertron like it was yesterday.

_...the day he had left her behind..._

He shook his head. He had done what he thought he must, for the survival of their race-Autobot as well as Decepticon. He had never asked for this, had never wanted to be anything but Orion, happily serving alongside his beloved Ariel.

And then came Megatron...the Aerialbots...and the war.

His Ariel had been torn from him, along with his name and purpose. He became someone else, someone he didn't recognize. And she was not his Ariel, but something inside him knew he loved her. They were meant to be together; he knew it with every inch of him, every circuit and diode and transistor.

They were younger then-much younger. An older Elita would not have pelted after him, screaming his name. Now, she knew how to stand on her own, how to command her own troops. But that day...that terrible day...

_Optimus! Take me with you!_

Terror had gripped him as Decepticon fliers strafed the launch complex. She saw only him, heedless of the danger all around.

_It's too dangerous, Elita! Go back!_

Then the Seekers descended, swift and merciless. Her scream had echoed in his nightmares for the next four million years.

Their reunion had been short, but even those few hours had been sweet. Just to know she was alive relieved a pain that had gnawed at him ever since he and his Autobots had awakened on Earth.

Moving back to his desk, he drew a sheet of flimsiplast out of a drawer and picked up his favorite stylus.

_My dearest Elita,_

_I know we usually communicate by coded message, but today this archaic form seems somehow appropriate._

_You see, my Autobots and I have been influenced by our adopted home a great deal-some of us more than others. Today is Valentine's Day, a day when lovers exchange sentimental greetings, and friends show their appreciation for one another. Our human friend Spike always gives his mate, Carly, a single rose-a beautiful Earth plant-today, to mark when he first told her of his affection for her. Tributes among humans can range from the simple to the extravagant, but their message is always the same-one of honor, devotion, and affection._

_You and I both know there is little time for sentiment in war. And yet, I cannot help but wonder if war makes us more aware of those we care about. I feel your absence deeply, but even that emptiness reminds me that you should be here to fill it._

_Perhaps contact with the humans has made me __**too**__ sentimental. Nevertheless, I want you to know that I miss you, and that I wait for the day we can be together again-the day the war is over._

_Yours,_

_Optimus_

After it was done, he held the flimsiplast in his hand. He could not risk sending one of his troops as courier just for a letter such as this, but the act of putting words down in his own hand had loosened the feeling in his core. He smiled to himself; she would have her love letter.

Turning on his terminal, he typed the message, encoded it, and sent it to her corresponding terminal signature.

Later that day, he received her reply:

_Speed that day, my dear Orion._

_-End_


	6. GIFT: Flowers

Valentine's Day Challenge #2  
Gift: Flowers  
_featuring Carly and the Dinobots_

"Friend Carly!"

Her name, bellowed on the clear, cold Oregon air, stopped Carly in her tracks. She turned back toward the entrance to the Ark, shading her eyes from the sunlight glinting on the icicles hanging from the four huge jet boosters overhead.

The ground beneath her feet shook slightly, heralding the approach of Sludge, Snarl, Swoop, and Slag. The four Dinobots were often seen together, apart from their slightly more sophisticated-and grumpy-leader, and once again Carly caught herself thinking of them as titanic toddlers, always tagging along after Wheeljack and Ratchet, always asking questions.

The Dinobots boomed to a stop and closed ranks around her, looking down at her expectantly. As always, a frisson of panic seized her as their sheer size blotted out the sky, but she let it pass. "Hi, guys. What can I do for you?"

Swoop and Slag exchanged a glance, and Carly smiled. Lately, she had begun to wonder if the Dinobots had an almost extra-sensory way of communicating with each other that was much more efficient than their clumsy speech.

"Dinobots want to ask Friend Carly question," the triceratops growled. "How Dinos show leader..." He frowned, groping for a word in his limited vocabulary.

Snarl came to his older brother's rescue. "What him Slag mean that him Grimlock good leader," chimed Snarl. "Us Dinos want show him Grimlock we like."

Carly grinned. "This doesn't have anything to do with Valentine's Day, does it?"

All four dinos looked away. Swoop scuffed a massive toe into the ground, kicking up watermelon-sized chunks of ice. Carly squeaked and jumped as one of the chunks landed at her feet, and Snarl thumped the pteranodon on the shoulder.

"You Swoop stop," he grunted. "No hurt Friend Carly."

Swoop, the youngest of the four, looked appropriately abashed. "Ohhh," he murmured. "Me Swoop sorry."

"That's all right, Swoop." Carly patted his leg. "So, you four want to give Grimlock a Valentine, huh?" She crossed her arms, nylon parka rustling. "The question is, how do we do that?"

The previous afternoon, Spike had given Carly a red rose, and shyly asked her to be his girlfriend. The gesture-along with Spike's giddy behavior-had sparked a flurry of interest among the Autobots, who were always curious to learn about the customs of the planet they'd unwittingly invaded.

Spike had also mentioned how Valentine's was a day of appreciation for close friends as well as lovers. Apparently the Dinobots had put two and two together and actually made four, which was an amazing feat in itself.

"Friend Spike gave Friend Carly pretty flower," drawled Sludge. With a smile, Carly remembered how the brontosaurus had tromped happily through fields and meadows the previous summer, when the countryside had been in full bloom. Sludge's smile showed that he, too, was re-accessing that memory file, but after a moment, his massive head drooped. "Us Dinos could give Grimlock pretty flower-but no flowers now," he mourned. "Flowers not grow in cold."

Indeed; though it was the middle of February, there was nothing of Spring to be seen as yet. _Not even a dandelion,_ Carly mused. She stood for a moment, thinking. The idea of taking the Dinos into town to find a flower shop was by turns hysterically funny and horrifying, so that was out of the question. Besides, who knew how many flowers it would take to make a Dinobot-sized bouquet? Her tips from delivering pizzas wouldn't cover more than a dozen carnations, if that, and she sighed. The flowers would have to be made of paper for her to afford enough of them.

_Paper..._

Carly's head shot up, and all four Dinos stepped back, their mouths dropping open in a comical reflection of her own surprise.

"Guys, come with me." She scrambled to get beyond their massive feet and headed back toward the Ark. "I've got an idea."

With voices raised in thunderous cheers, the Dinobots trooped after their human friend.

Carly slipped into the Dinbots' room through the human-sized crack in the massive door. "He's on his way," she panted.

Slag grunted in approval. "Good. Us Dinos wait, surprise him Grimlock." He scooped up Carly and put her on his shoulder. "Friend Carly wait with us Dinos. Want to tell him Grimlock who helped."

"Whoa!" The sudden change of vista startled the girl, but the triceratops' grip was more gentle than she would have thought possible. Settling herself comfortably, she patted the side of his helmet. "Of course. Swoop, you'd better turn out the lights if you want Grimlock to be surprised."

The pteranodon grinned. "Lights out!" He hit the switch, and then closed the door. Except for the ghostly glow of four pairs of blue optics, the room was so dark that Carly could almost feel it.

Swoop giggled. "Him Grimlock be soooo surprised," he stage-whispered.

"Sshhh! Quiet!" barked Snarl. Slag lurched beneath Carly, and there was a heavy clunk as Slag's fist met with Snarl's helmet.

"Me Slag say you too loud! Him Grimlock not be surprised if you Snarl not keep trap shut!"

Heavy footsteps thundered against the hallway floor, and the four Dinos fell into an expectant silence.

"Hmm," came Grimlock's distinctive voice. "Me Grimlock not know why door to Dinos' quarters shut. Me Grimlock not see Dinobuddies anywhere, either."

Swoop giggled.

"Sssshhhh!" hissed three Dinos and one human.

"Uh?" The door slid back, and the towering T-Rex stood framed in the doorway. "What going on?"

"Lights on!" crowed Swoop, and suddenly the room sprang to life. There before Grimlock stood his fellow Dinobots, accompanied by Carly, all with silly grins on their faces. Huge, brightly colored cardboard flowers decorated the walls of the room, and more dangled from the ceiling, giving the distinct impression of walking into a flowering jungle. For a full minute, Grimlock was absolutely speechless.

"How you do this?" he said, a note of awe in his voice. He turned to Carly. "You Carly help Dinobots?"

She nodded. "Sure did! The guys told me they wanted to give you a Valentine."

Grimlock's optic ridges met. "Valen-tine?"

Carly smiled. "Wheeljack had some cardboard lying around from a bunch of empty boxes, and Ratchet let us use his laser cutter to cut them out. Then we used some extra paint from the paint booth and gave them a little color." She glanced around the room. "Whaddya think?"

The T-Rex stood silent for a minute more, taking in the bright decor. At length, he nodded gravely. "Me Grimlock think it nice," he pronounced solemnly. "Dinobuddies best friends me Grimlock ever had!"

"AWWWW!" All four howled in chorus and crowded around their leader for a Dinobot-sized group hug. Carly narrowly missed being swept off Slag's shoulder by one of Swoop's wingtips, but managed to keep her seat by flattening herself against the side of Slag's helmet. Then huge, black-plated fingers were curling gently around her, and she found herself hoisted onto the shoulder of Grimlock himself.

"Me Grimlock thank you Friend Carly," he grated. "You help Dinos good!"

Carly grinned. "What are friends for?"

-End-


	7. GIFT: Twilight

Valentine's Challenge #6: Gift: Twilight  
_featuring Chromia_

Chromia climbed the last few steps of the ascent on Mt. St. Hilary, and then turned and looked back down into the snow-covered valley. Sol's light was a mere line of burnt orange on the western horizon, turning the blanket of white a delicate shade of peach. The lights of Autobot City were beginning to come on, as were the lights of Portland and other human settlements nearby, making it seem like the landscape had been scattered with jewels. The eastern sky was a deep shade of indigo, spangled with a few dim stars.

_So this is Earth_, she thought, feeling a chill wind rake across her plating.

As she had done so many times before, Chromia summoned her treasure from subspace and held in her hand. It was a cluster of beautifully faceted little spires, grown on some far-off world in a time long ago; she didn't remember exactly when Ironhide had given it to her or where he'd gotten it from, but it didn't matter. Whenever she looked at it, she'd thought of him.

Once, when Shockwave's stooges had caught up to them and they'd had to bug out, she had run back to her quarters to get it.

"Chromia!" Firestar had yelled over the sound of laser fire. "Come back here!"

"I'll be right back!" she yelled over her shoulder, dodging fallen pillars and sprinting through walls of flame to the ruin that had been her corner of the bunker. She opened a small panel, and there was the crystal, its shine undimmed by the horrors of war. She snatched it up and ran from the bunker mere microseconds before the ceiling caved in on top of her.

When they'd managed to chase the drones off, Elita had rounded on her. "How could you be so foolish?" she snarled. Wordlessly, Chromia had opened her hand to reveal her prize, and immediately all the panic and frustration drained from her commander's face. "I see," Elita said quietly, and a wistful smile touched her lips as she remembered her own absent lover.

And then one day-Chromia would never forget it as long as she lived-they rounded a corner to see the mechs they'd given up for dead, engaged in a firefight with Starscream and his flunkeys.

"Oh, how _quaint_," Starscream had sneered. "The _girls_ have come to rescue their _boyfriends_!"

Ironhide turned; their optics met. "_Chromia_," he murmured, and her name on his lips made her processor grind to a halt. For a split second, it was almost as if the whole world-the other femmes, the war, _Starscream_-had disappeared.

Later, when their combined strength had once again thwarted Shockwave's efforts to exterminate them-and they had welcomed Elita and Optimus back to the land of the functioning-Ironhide had pulled her into a quiet corner and simply held her in his arms for a long, long while.

Finally, he stood back and held her at arm's length. "Lemme look at ya," he'd said, grinning. "Yer still the prettiest femme on Cybertron."

She'd smiled at him. "Same old Ironhide. You still think flattery is gonna get you anywhere?"

"Well," he said, pulling her close again, "Ah sure hoped it would."

She had told herself in the years that he was gone that she didn't miss his touch, his kiss anymore-but as he dimmed his optics and pressed his lips against hers, she'd known what a lie that had been.

All too soon, he'd had to go. Before he left, she'd shown him the crystal, and he chuckled.

"Ah remember this," he said softly, in that broad, flat dialect that she loved. He ran a finger along one of the facets, making the crystal sing a high, pure note. "Ah can't believe y'kept it all this time."

"Just don't tell anyone I'm so sentimental," she quipped. "It's bound to ruin my reputation."

"Yer secret's safe with me," he said, and kissed her one last time.

With a start, she realized that she'd last seen him twenty Terran years ago. _Not even a vorn, _she thought.

She sighed through her filters. It had been easier during the ages on Cybertron when she had thought him dead, but knowing he was alive made twenty years apart seem like twenty centuries. When time allowed, they'd exchanged messages; usually nothing more elaborate than _Doing okay. Miss you._ Otherwise, it was business as usual, and the war ground on.

She had been on Cybertron when Unicron smashed into the planet. Words like _terror_ and _despair_ just weren't enough, so she didn't think about them. She fought and pulled and carried and dug and shot, and didn't look up until a nova of pure aqua light burst over the ravaged planet. Every Autobot and Decepticon had stopped what they were doing and gaped at the sight as the monster's head blew off its mammoth body.

No one had cheered. The wounded still needed tending, the dead still needed to be mourned.

It had been much later that she'd learned of the death of everyone aboard the shuttle, the devastation at Autobot City, and the death of Optimus Prime. When she finally found Elita, the loss in the femme commander's optics had made Chromia want to howl at the injustice of the universe.

"We still have work to do, my friend," Elita said, her own grief lapping at the edge of her words. "In their memory, we must carry on and see it through."

A few lunar cycles ago, Elita had transferred to Earth in order to assist Ultra Magnus and Rodimus Prime with the final preparations for bringing Autobot City back online. Now that the City was whole once more, Elita had asked Chromia to come and see the planet that Prime and Ironhide had loved so well.

It was apparent from Chromia's first moment in the City that today was special, and a few inquiries had yielded some interesting information: Today was Valentine's Day, a day when lovers exchanged tokens of endearment, and friends sent greetings of appreciation to one another. Seeing mechs and femmes together brought back the ache that had been blurred by years of unceasing work, and she had found it hard to concentrate on Ultra Magnus' discourse on the repairs. Displaying the intuition and compassion that had endeared her to the femmes under her command, Elita finally drew Chromia aside.

"You can't see much of Earth from Metroplex," said Elita, as they left the command center. "Why don't you get out of the City for a while? The view from the volcano is absolutely beautiful." She smiled, understanding in her optics. "Optimus told me once that he and Ironhide liked to go there to talk, just as the sun was going down."

Chromia returned the smile. "I'd like that," she said, and sunset had found her climbing the mountain alone.

Now the daystar's light was gone, and the crystal shimmered by the silver-white light of Earth's moon. Chromia slid a fingertip along one of the facets, making the crystal sing and hum. She held it a moment more, and then drew back and hurled it as hard as she could into the sky.

Drawing her pistol, Chromia tracked the crystal as it rocketed away, and fired a single shot. The crystal burst into a million glittering fragments, the captive energy inside igniting with rainbow fire.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Ironhide," Chromia said, smiling to herself as the light faded.

-End-


End file.
